


can't tell you where i've been

by howdoyousleep



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ableism, Ableist Language, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Disabled Character, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Daddy Kink, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, No Sex, No Smut, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:07:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25475098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howdoyousleep/pseuds/howdoyousleep
Summary: “Excuse me…”James doesn’t expect it. Steve is patient, Steve is compassionate. His tone immediately has James’ eyes on him, his Daddy insides on edge.“Why...why would you do that? Why would you turn to him?”
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 50
Kudos: 293





	can't tell you where i've been

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, all. I had this Ask pop up into my Inbox maybe two weeks ago:  
> "Hello, sorry to bother you, but my disabled ass is having to go through some bullshit rn cause fuckers aint accommodating to my existence, and im really angry, so im think skinny steve thoughts of my fellow disabled boy going ballistic on some ableists and daddy james just sipping a drink and watching in love. (Until someone is specially a dick to his baby, then he will have to intervene. Politely. With his fists and murder eyes) thx bye"  
> What a fucking blessing for me to have this opportunity as a writer. I immediately knew I needed to do this justice and give Nonnie as close to exactly what they were looking for as I could. I personally do not live with any disabilities and I owe my soul to @carlin-kyle and @solasnagealai-escapism for being my Sensitivity Readers and helping me understand the lens that people with disabilities see through.  
> Last shoutout goes to @the1918 for the hype and guidance and support.  
> There is no smut in this. This is not directly from any of my universes. James is Steve’s Daddy. I really really hope you love it because my heart is attached to this one. I would love feedback no matter what.

It’s been a hard day for Stevie. 

He doesn’t get them too often but James knows that’s because his babydoll is strong as hell and won’t let himself have a copious amount of bad ones. He does what he can to stay positive and to not let others words and actions put him in a darker place, but he can only do so much and today is a bad day. It’s a day where Steve’s strength is tested to the breaking point, where so many different forces seem to be working against him. It’s a day where he wants to give up but keeps going just like his mama taught him, and it’s a day where James’ role is of the utmost importance. 

Steve had gotten used to having to do things on his own, to having to shoulder the responsibility of absolutely everything, but James has worked to chip that away as much as he could. He’s worked slowly and lovingly to show Steve that Daddy can take some of that burden too, can fight when Steve doesn’t want to, can be there to hold Steve during hard days. They’ve learned about one another, about who they are as one cohesive unit, and James knows when to both step in and take over and let Steve keep pushing along. 

This is a day where James needs to step in and take over. 

James woke up that morning and knew it was a day he would have to step in, and he should have right away, but Steve had insisted to the point of tears. 

“It’s just a little bit of pain, James please. It’s been much worse, I’m fine,” Steve had insisted, pushing away James’ efforts to contact his professors to let them know of his chronic pain, to try and stay here in bed where he’s more comfortable. If there’s anything James has learned about his sweet baby it’s that Steve is proud and driven, albeit stubborn. If Steve wants something he will get it through hard work and no pity. James had given him extra kisses, made sure to rub his neck and his lower back a bit, before he took his leave and left for work. 

At around two in the afternoon he got a call from Steve. He was in the middle of a meeting but meetings, _everything,_ can go to hell when his Stevie needed him. He quickly dismissed everyone from the room, told them they could pick this up later and that he would be in touch. The few in the meeting understood and if they didn’t, fuck ‘em; James is the boss. 

“Hey, pretty...”

James knew the bad day had gotten the best of Steve when he got a sniffle of, _“Daddy…”_ in response. His blood ran cold, on high alert, _don’t panic._

“Where are you?” 

_“I’m...m’on campus.”_

“Are you okay?” It had been a dumb question to ask but James had wanted to hear what Steve would say. He heard a small squeak that made his heart crack right down the middle and then a shaky breath. 

_“I don’t know. I...it’s a lot.”_ James was headed to the elevator before Steve had even given him the answer he had seen coming. 

“Oh, sugar it’s okay, it’s all okay. Gonna come get you, gonna pick you up and take you home.” 

_“No! N-no I...I can do it I just--”_ Bucky had stopped Steve, had all the information he needed in order to make an executive Daddy order. 

“Babydoll,” he purred, pitching his voice low as he reached for his keys, elevator doors closing, “Let Daddy take care’a you. You’re hurtin’, Stevie, and that’s okay, more than okay. Lemme have the privilege of bein’ your Daddy, lemme be strong for the both of us.” 

_“But...but our dinner, I don’t want to--”_

James was quick to cut him off with a gentle, “Steve, it’s okay. It’s all okay, honey.” Silence followed his request. James could hear a few choked noises that continued to splinter at his cold heart, a cold heart that only one Steve Rogers could warm up like a ray of sunshine. 

_“Y-yeah, okay.”_

“Thank you, baby. Where are you? Where can I pick you up?” 

Stevie’s day had been hard. James could see it written all over his face and his stiff movements when he picked him up outside of Low Memorial Library. He could feel it in the way Steve grabbed at the front of James’ jacket after he slipped into the passenger seat. James could hear it in the way Steve let out a wet sob into the crook of his neck as he cooed and pulled his kitten close. 

James pressed soft and sweet Daddy kisses onto the top of Steve’s head as he let the burdens of the day out in the form of tears and sniffles and the smallest of squeaks. It took some time, some extra squeezes and some coos, but Steve eventually recapped his day for James to explain what had gone wrong. 

Steve had been hurting, his back tight with pain, and he was in pain the most when he sits for too long of time or when he has to take the stairs. One could see how a “normal” day for a college student could then become incredibly different and difficult for someone who lived like Steve did, someone with unseen disabilities. 

Steve’s first professor infuriatingly would not accept Steve’s doctor’s note for his late work and one class he missed last week for a doctor’s appointment. James wanted to snap the guy’s neck, wanted to show up to his office and tell him exactly what he thought about him blatantly disregarding Steve’s situation and his specific accommodations and protections. Steve’s grade wouldn’t suffer in any way, his babydoll smart as hell, but that wasn’t the point. It hurt Steve immensely to be so obviously ignored and overlooked on top of physically hurting. 

Defeated and disregarded, Steve made his way to his next class, a small lecture. It was across campus and Steve missed the bus since he went out of his way to try and reason with his professor during his office hours. He tried so hard to get to his lecture on time his poor lungs could barely take it, had him stopping on the stairs outside of the lecture hall to take a few puffs from his inhaler. James pulled Steve close as he told him this, knowing how much Steve hates using his inhaler in front of other people. That joined at the hip with his doll in pain, physically and mentally and emotionally, had James almost unable to keep his own composure. 

He had to stay strong for Steve. 

Steve was late to his class. He had to take the stairs too, which was not easy whatsoever for his frail body. Not only was he late and he had to take the stairs, he had to use his inhaler _yet again_ before walking into his class. Embarrassed and huffing, Steve walked to his seat, trying his hardest to not draw attention to himself, when his teacher turned to him and said--

_“Nice of you to show up, Steven.”_

It was Steve’s breaking point. He had no spoons left to give far before this and had been pushed well past the edge after those seven words. It was also James’ breaking point as Steve filled him in on his day, gathering Steve up into his arms and pulling him into his lap gently, middle console be damned. 

“Oh, sugar I’m so sorry, m’so so sorry,” he had whispered into the top of Steve’s sun-kissed hair, cupping his stark jawline, tucking him close to his chest even given their location and positioning. Steve was about all cried out at that point, a few sniffles here and there, but that almost broke James’ heart even more; Steve rarely became so incredibly defeated. 

“I just wish people could...could understand or try to,” Steve had breathed into his neck, and James’ grip went tight all over again. He wished he could take all of Steve’s pain away, would gladly shoulder it himself, would do it for his baby in a heartbeat. He wished Steve didn’t have to walk this Earth being so misunderstood for someone who has such a large and giving heart, especially for someone that hurts the way he hurts. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” is all James could think of to respond with, tipping Steve’s chin and kissing at his cheeks, his forehead, his lips. 

It was decided they’d spend the rest of their afternoon at home and take it easy. First order of business was picking up something to fill up Steve’s tummy, having been empty up to that point. James didn’t bother scolding him. There’s a small deli around the corner from their apartment that Steve adores and where the owners and employees adore Steve right back. James had Steve call them up, had him order his favorite sandwich (chicken salad on wheat), and kissed him sweetly before popping inside to pick the order up. 

“Jenny said he sounded a bit sad on the phone. Put an extra lemon bar in there for him, maybe it’ll help,” 

God bless good people. 

“Thank you, Danny. You’re an angel.” 

Something in Steve’s belly made a vast difference in his energy and strength. The extra lemon bar made Steve sniffle a bit but brought some color back to his cheeks. A warm bath was exactly what Steve needed next and that’s just what James did for him. Yummy vanilla bubble bath, steamy water, James helped Steve in, gave him time to adjust to it on his own because of his pain. Steve was impatient though, understandably needy, only waited maybe seven minutes until he was sitting back between Daddy’s legs.

Big hands feeling like heaven in his hair, rubbing up against his spine, innocent kisses behind his ear also did wonders to help Steve feel more relaxed. An afternoon nap with James’ warm and burly chest against his back was just the cherry on top. By the time Steve was stirring in Daddy’s arms, pillow creases on his face, hair a mess, _adorable,_ it felt like the day’s earlier occurrences were years away. 

“We don’t have to go, sugar, it's okay. You know I’m happy as a clam layin’ on the couch with you layin’ on top’a me,” James had told Steve when he questioned when their dinner reservations were. Bless his heart, Steve actually took the time to think about how he felt, to listen to his Daddy and check-in with himself before shaking his head. 

“I want to go, Daddy, been thinking about it all week. Please?” 

And here they are walking up to one of their favorite restaurants, Steve referring to it as “fancy” and insisting they not frequent it even though James insists they could eat there every night if it’s what his babydoll wanted. Looking down at Steve, all bright eyes and somewhat renewed energy, James can’t help but feel proud. He’s proud of himself for being a reliable and caring partner but he is infinitely proud of Steve. He says just that, a gentle, “M’so proud of you, baby,” brings a delicate hand up to his lips to brush them across the back of it. 

“Thank you, James,” Steve murmurs back, pushes up onto his tiptoes and kisses James sweetly on the chin, the closest place he can reach. James’ own gut burns a bit as it always does when he is reminded of how precious his sweet boy is, so much strength and fire compacted into such an itty-bitty gift. James is constantly baffled that he is the one who gets to tuck this man close to his chest each and every night. 

Walking into the restaurant, up to the hostess, they are greeted with a look they infuriatingly get often and one that rubs both men the absolute wrong way. The hostess smiles, sparkling and professional, looks at James and is taken aback like most are when they set eyes on him. James doesn’t understand it himself but Steve insists that’s what this universal look he gets often means--attraction. When the hostess’ eyes fall to Steve the look reserved for James is replaced by another version of surprise. 

People look at the two of them like this often. They look at James with flirty eyes but when said eyes fall to Steve their infatuation is replaced with judgmental confusion. More often than not people don’t mean to be so incredibly transparent, _small mercies,_ but they’re always seen by the two of them nonetheless. It’s the _how on Earth is someone like you with someone like him_ look. It’s the _oh, there must be something going on here, some sort of sexual exchange or pity of sorts_ look. It doesn’t morph into one, but sometimes the look that follows is a compassionate one for James because he is apparently such a nice person for giving Steve more than the time of day. That’s the worst look but they’re all looks that eat Steve up inside and it’s one that makes James want to set buildings on fire. 

James doesn't let Steve’s hand go, squeezes it before he is forced to as he pulls Steve’s chair out for him, kissing him on the cheek before taking a seat on his own. A blush is one of the best looks on Steve, makes him look like a fallen angel, and James revels in it as he takes his menu. There is tension in the line of Steve’s shoulders, in the way that he gives James a slanted grin as he looks down at his own menu. More often than not Steve is able to brush off such looks, to hold his head high and proud. Tonight is quite obviously different.

“Are you thinkin’ you’ll try something new tonight?” James asks to make small talk and Steve’s mouth quirks at the corner. 

“I might, yes. We haven’t been in since they’ve changed their menu for the season.”

“You sure you won’t--”

“James, if I want the chicken and dumplings again you will not make fun of me. I won’t tolerate it.” Steve’s voice has that playful fire behind it, has James chuckling as he puts his hands up in his own defense. 

_“Hey_ , hey you won’t be hearing it from me, sugar,” James clarifies. “Get whatever you want, always.” 

When the waitress arrives, _Kelsey_ is her name, James requests an Old Fashioned for himself and a sweet tea for Steve. With the medication he is taking and the day he has had, James doesn’t risk it and makes a decision. Steve doesn’t seem to mind, more than likely leaning into James making decisions for him at this point, and gives his Daddy a small smile. James responds with a gentle nudge to Steve’s ankle with the toe of his own shoe hidden under the table. He almost wishes it wasn’t hidden from the view of others, almost wants people to see him flirt with his babydoll so openly.. He gets a flutter of eyelashes in response that James feels between his ribs. 

Kelsey returns with drinks in hand and asks if they are ready to order. James, taking a sip from his drink, nods and gestures to Steve. James tries his hardest to hide his smirk behind his glass when Steve does indeed order the chicken and dumplings, comfort food to the max; he deserves it.

“Is french bread okay for your side or would you prefer something else?” Kelsey asks and Steve doesn’t understand her, can’t hear her properly. He gestures to his hearing aides and asks her to repeat herself. James’ stomach drops when she then turns to _James_ instead. 

Not today. Preferably not ever, but especially not today. Kelsey looks at James a bit awkwardly, maybe a bit more expectantly. She’s looking at James like he has the answers, like it is expected of him to answer for Steve. Maybe it has to do with James having ordered Steve’s drink, James will give her that, but there are a hundred other things she could have done in this position than immediately divert to anyone other than Steve himself. 

Kelsey begins to talk, James raises his hand to silence her, but Steve is the one who speaks up the loudest. 

“Excuse me…” 

James doesn’t expect it. Steve is patient, Steve is compassionate. His tone immediately has James’ eyes on him, his Daddy insides on edge. 

“Why...why would you do that? Why would you turn to him?” Steve asks, head bowed as he looks at his menu. His fingers flex, that little spot between his eyebrows furrows. He looks up at Kelsey after a few silent and tense seconds, looks at her as expectantly as she had just looked at James. It’s a valid question, incredibly so, one that deserves an answer, but James isn’t so sure Steve is going to get one. Kelsey looks struck with panic, is trying to remain professional when put directly on the spot, looks to James _again._

That’s a mistake. Steve’s voice is much louder when he speaks next. 

“No, no don’t look at him. Look at me. Please.” The last word is added on for feux politeness, spoken with a _bang_ of Steve’s elbow hitting the table as he points to himself. Steve sounds commanding, voice strict, is using it to stand up for himself. James picks up his glass and takes another sip of the amber liquid, enjoys the warm way it slips down his throat as he watches his baby stand up for himself. 

“All I asked you to do was repeat yourself. If I hadn’t have pointed out my hearing aides would you have turned to him, Kelsey?” It’s a question but he doesn’t give the waitress time to respond. “Is it my hearing aides that made you ask James what to do, how to help you in such a situation?” 

James takes another sip of his glass, leans back in his chair a bit, takes in the sight of Steve taking a stand. This is rare. He tends to utilize these instances as teachable moments, to kindly inform people of what they have done wrong and how to ensure it doesn’t happen again. Steve is usually the one who needs to reel James in, having a much shorter temper than most. James is ready to step in, is conscious of Steve’s breathing, how he sounds, but he lets his sweet thing go. 

“I acknowledge that most of my anger is not your fault, but you can’t just...you can’t just ignore me. I am a person. I have some troubles,, some you can see and some you cannot, b-but I deserve to be treated the same as James does.”

James is in love. 

Kelsey tries to speak but is stopped.

“There are steps and steps _only_ at the front of your restaurant. Did you know that? How is someone in a wheelchair or crutches or someone like me who suffers from chronic illness supposed to feel welcomed here?” Steve’s voice is loud, is drawing attention from others as well as someone who looks like they could be a manager of sorts. Steve has James’ attention the most though, enthralled in the best of ways. He’s halfway through his drink already. 

“There is no braille on these menus, at the entrance. Does your hostess or anyone here know sign language? How are people supposed to feel welcomed here if they are not accommodated for? How...h-how do you think I feel in this moment and after the day that I’ve had?”

The manager nears and Kelsey looks like she’s approaching the point of tears. 

“Listen, all...Kelsey, all you had to do is repeat yourself, that’s all I asked of you. You don’t need to turn to James as if he’s my caretaker.”

James is torn, both in different directions and emotionally. He wants to tighten the grip on his glass minutely so that it splinters into tiny pieces just as his own heart is, but he also wants to wrap his Stevie baby up and protect him from the world that sometimes seems to work against him. He’s proud, _so goddamn proud,_ of Steve for standing up for himself, but he’s also incredibly livid that Steve has been put in such a position in the first place. He watches on as Steve actively and transparently fights with himself and that’s understandable. 

This isn’t Steve. He isn’t someone who makes another cry on purpose. He can be passionate and there have been times where James has to grab him by the waist and pull him away kickin’, but Steve doesn’t make people cry. James can see the way Steve wants to continue, wants to fight this fight to his death, but one look up at Kelsey has him wincing. 

“Kelsey, I am sorry. But if James had asked you to repeat yourself would you have ever looked over at me or would you have just repeated yourself?”

Steve asks the questions in such a soft voice while looking up at their waitress that it makes her audibly swallow and fight back tears, a voice that encourages her to answer, to admit she was wrong. That’s the small victory that Steve needs at this point. 

“I...I would have just repeated myself,” is what Kelsey quietly responds with and it’s bittersweet. It’s the answer Steve needed to hear but only to prove his point. It isn’t an answer that he wants to hear, that anyone in this situation wants to hear. It hurts everyone involved. James can only hope that Kelsey takes this moment with her and carries it for the rest of her life, uses it to help others be more aware of those living with disabilities. 

“I’m sorry for raising my voice. I have had an...an incredibly awful day because of things such as this happening again and again. I am not sorry for what I have said and I hope you understand that.” 

James is _so_ in love. 

He notices that Kelsey’s cheeks are wet when he is finally able to tear his eyes away from Steve. He only feels sorry for her because Steve does; he’s a much more bitter person than his sweetheart. James moves then, reaches across the table for Steve’s hands, grabs one and then the other, holds them as tight as he can. He’s vibrating with emotion, can feel his insides shake, and is somewhat soothed by feeling Steve’s own energy underneath his touch. 

“S-sir I’m...I’m so terribly...s-so incredibly sorry,” Kelsey chokes back, tries as discreetly as she can to wipe the tears from her eyes. The manager is still close by but hasn’t directly interfered. James isn’t sure how he feels about that. 

“Apology accepted. Thank you.” Steve sounds like he’s using reserved energy at this point, does look up at her as he speaks but then looks back down to their tangled fingers. James squeezes them tight once more as he requests softly, “Can you please give us a moment?”, his eyes one Steve’s face. Kelsey turns and leaves and James doesn’t even hesitate. 

“I’m so fucking proud of you.” 

Steve smiles but it’s a watery one, a bittersweet one. He doesn’t look up as he does so. 

“Look at me, sugar. Please?” James requests and Steve does so immediately, _sweet baby_ . He musters up all the love and devotion and adoration that he can when he repeats, “I am _so_ proud of you, Steve.” Steve’s eyes are bright like still ocean waters but James knows better; he knows they don’t reflect the stormy insides of the moment. 

“Thank you,” Steve murmurs back, shifts in his seat as his eyes drop back to their hands. 

“I love you so much, _so much_.” Steve’s response is immediate.

“I love you too, James.” 

Some tension has eased, a small amount, James feeling better that Steve knows how proud he is of him but questions still need to be asked. 

“How do you feel? One to five?” They’ve mastered this scale they utilize often and for a variety of different reasons, a check-in of sorts. It takes into consideration physical pain, mental exhaustion, and overall comfort. A one to Steve means that he is more than okay, is happy and wants to keep at whatever they’re doing. A three means they need to be cautious and tread lightly. A five, something they’ve only come across a few times, means Steve isn’t okay and they need to get closer to homebase. 

Steve thinks for a few seconds, closes his eyes. 

“Three.” James exhales. 

“Would you like to leave?” James asks and he knows, _knows,_ that Steve will fight it, will try and stick it out to preserve the evening for the two of them but he hopes with all his heart that Steve will give him an honest answer. Steve does take a few seconds, looks around before looking up at James. He knows the answer before it comes out of Steve’s mouth. 

“Can we leave?” 

James begins to stand as he answers, “Of course we can, sweetheart. Come on.”

Steve holds James’ hand like a vice, tucks himself into James’ side and holds onto his arm with his other slim hand. James wants to consume Steve, wants to kiss his cheeks and scream his love from the tallest building in the city, for all to hear. There’s no point in James displaying his anger when Steve has driven the point home so thoroughly. They walk right through the front doors and back out into the crisp evening air without another look or another word. 

James sees and hears Steve take a deep breath in and hopes that the long exhale has him releasing with it the stress of the evening and any remaining from the day. He dips his head as they walk, kisses the top of Steve’s own head, his sun-spun hair soft under his lips. Steve doesn’t say anything in response, looks up at James with his flushed cheeks and pretty lips and glittering eyes. James didn’t know it was possible for him to love Steve anymore but he feels different after watching him stand up for himself so powerfully. 

He doesn’t press Steve to talk, to discuss. He’s sure Steve might want to come down on his own terms so they’re comfortably quiet as they walk, as James guides them to their favorite hot dog stand. It’s a few blocks south and on their route home, is reliable and delicious and just what they need. James loads Steve’s up with onions, relish, and mustard, adds a few peppers to his own. Steve takes it with a gracious smile and they stand on this street corner, side by side, and tuck into their dinner. 

It wasn’t an easy day, but it was an important one. It was one that proved Steve is a fighter, which isn’t something they didn’t know before this point, but it’s a set of experiences that prove just that. Not only did it prove Steve’s strength it also proved that Steve didn’t have to face this fight alone. It’s a day that has shown the unwavering power of their relationship, the two of them together as one cohesive unit. It’s been an exhausting day, but not without purpose, and as the two of them walk hand in hand back towards their apartment James feels hopeful that tomorrow will be a better day. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think with this one. I hope I did it justice.


End file.
